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Reproach

4th of The First Seed, 30 SA


 

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~ Overview ~

 

The Warnation of Krugmar, yet again, has issued demands all the while spitting on the diplomatic process. And yet again, Elvenesse will stand firm.

 


 

~ Principle ~

 

 The Crown of Elvenesse and her people see no reason to bend to attempts of tyranny, subjugation, and perceived slights.

 

Another Rex enthroned, another chance squandered. It is a vicious cycle to witness. And yet, here you stand, newly emblazoned with untold possibilities laid out before you. And you choose threats and savagery. The symbol of valour, the weapon of your progenitor scorns your very existence, wrought from nothing but deceit. 

 

The hours pour through. The past increases. The future recedes as I sit under candlelight and scribe this missive to you, denying yet another stack of outlandish demands. And yet, I still offer the chance to speak within Amathea, protected under the unspoken conventions of diplomacy, as equals.

 

Will you usher in a new era? Remain ignorant?

 

Regardless, we will survive. As we always have.


 

 

Uell ito Maruthiran,

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Evar'tir Oranor, High Prince of Elvenesse,

    Prince of Caras Eldar, Praetor of Elves Adjudicator of Malchediael

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Spoiler

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Gailien, satisfied upon hearing of the missive, nodded with a smile. "Great opportunities befall our horizon. We will survive, and then we will thrive." 

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The Lord Commander reads the missive from his High Prince and smiles. He folds the paper in half and sets it onto the railing of his keep. The sun hangs high in the sky and the plumes of smoke can be seen on the horizon from the warnation. If something was stirring, it was nothing the young elf had not seen before. "As I come of age. How fitting."

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The new citizen of Elvenesse reads the missive with a lump in her throat. "I really hope peace can stay for awhile... I am so terrible tired of running." she mutters to herself.

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Athri muttered something, awaiting a meeting soon to come. Her eye cast a glance at her rapier, wondering if it would ever need more use...

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Bakir Ireheart wonders if the War Nation will actually do any waring this time. "I doubt these greenskins can fight on two fronts, they broke after few engagements with the kin of Yavok before. I doubt this Rex will be any competition" 

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The Dominus of the Warnation Al-Uk'Lur just gently sits in the realm of the moon spirit Luara meditating in the calming aura of the moon spirit after a while the shaman opens his eye as he raises to his feet "Mohre wagh.. Mohre flat.... Enrohk zhall bi fihled wiff Powah" the Dominus didn't necessarily want war but was all to familiar with the inevitability of it and thus accepted its reality 

 

Edited by ThatDutchFellow
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The Huntsgoth sat within his forge, reading the missive to him and his snaga. He idly sat there as he watched his snaga hammer away at a sword “Letz juzz bend da twiggiz over agh givv em agh hozh zkah lyk wi dun so mani tikz befur”

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Urza reads over the missive nought but a sigh. Growing tired of the endless conflict between the two nations. Unspeaking she crumples the missive, placing it in her bag, she picks up her two twins carrying them at her hips as she strolls through the forests. It seems the fee orc was enjoying some peace from people, nations and normal life. The woman then sits atop a tree closing her eyes as she silently mourns for her lost son.

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